Anticipation
by jaed621
Summary: CBPC for February. A view inside Brennan's head. BB, Mildly sexually explicit.


Anticipation by Jaed

For CBPC February

**Warning: Sexually explicit material, actually, for me, it's a mild M.**

A/R: Look, those of you that know me realize there was no other story for me to write. The only question was whether to do it from Brennan's pov or Booth's pov. I went with Brennan. Thanks for reading and please enjoy.

You think you know me don't you Booth? Right now you're sitting in my office finishing a report and I know that periodically you glance up to watch me. You think I'm lost in thought over this skeleton and that the bone I hold in my hand has my undivided attention. You think I'm just your Bones and that you have me all figured out but I'm certain that you would be surprised if you could hear my thoughts. I've been watching you, for some time now. I probably know more about how you move than you do. I don't mean I just notice the obvious things, the way the light travels to your eyes causing them to sparkle when you smile, the way you continuously shift your weight when you're nervous, and the way you slightly tip your head when you're really listening. Those are easy. I'm talking about the subtle things; the things that I now believe somehow belong to me because I have discovered them about you. Like every mark on a bone, the things I have seen in you have all told me something.

I don't know when it started, in which exact moment the momentum shifted and my world began to tilt. I guess it doesn't really matter now. In the beginning I studied you like a specimen, trying to glean information from how you moved, how you spoke and how you looked. It felt natural to do what I do best, to learn as much as I could about something so I could understand it, rationalize it and then set it aside. It's logical, controlling, science in its most primitive state. I learned a lot about you by watching you Seeley. I know from your stride whether or not the bones in your feet are aching even though you have never once told me that they do. On those days I make sure we drive everywhere, when we do walk I keep my pace slow and tell you that I'm tired from working too many late nights. I can tell you how you take your coffee, that you stir it seven times before removing the spoon and you rotate your wrist as you do. I just don't know at what point while we were having coffee that I started to think about how your hand would cup my breast instead of how you were holding your cup.

When you get angry, your eyes darken and the muscles along your jaw move as you tighten it. I used to picture the anatomy of it as I watched you. At some point I started thinking about making it stop, about kissing you to make it stop. I want to place my lips against yours and let it all flow out of you. I want to touch your lips with my tongue and make my way inside, seeking the heat and flavor of you, absorbing all that anger until you moan into me and I know there is nothing left but desire. I could lose myself kissing you; lose myself in the slip of your tongue against mine. It's the first way in which you'll be inside my body; it's the moment that will change us forever. I am haunted by the fear of it and obsessed by the thought of it. Are you a good kisser Seeley?

You would blush and get flustered if I actually asked you that out loud. Questions that relate to sex on any level make you unravel in a hurry. I'm actually very amused by that and you're usually very sexy when you're flustered so I often pursue a sexual subject just so I can watch you react to it. Even now the voice of reason is screaming in my head, _you just referred to Booth as sexy. Seeley Booth. Your **partner** Agent Seeley Booth. Get a fucking grip._ Ironically that's exactly why I'm in trouble, because I want to get a fucking grip. Remember when I asked if you had a relationship with Cam? What was your phrase? Oh yes, that I was _wildly out of line_. Booth you have no clue how wildly out of line I really am, none at all and I have no idea when I left it.

I tried to stop all this, to reel it back in and shut it down. I thought I could just take the thoughts of you out of my day, out of my head. In the end I concluded that was impossible. I had a better chance of capturing lightening in a jar than I did of bottling up my feelings for you now. It was an exhausting and futile effort because every time you walked into the room I was consumed by you again. Images of us rained over me, soaking into my skin, your lips closing over my nipple, my thighs wrapping around your waist, your penis filling me for the first time. I have to set down the bone I'm holding so the shudder that passes over me as I allow these thoughts does not become apparent to anyone. How can my body be so desperate with yearning?

I'm watching you take a drink of your coffee so your Adams apple must have just dipped in your throat. I know exactly how that looks and that it dips deeper when you swallow because you're uncomfortable. I admit I noticed this out of my own entertainment. Yes, I said entertainment. I am not so delusional that I don't realize this stopped being a science project a long time ago. This has morphed into my own form of entertainment to satisfy what has to be an extreme case of raging hormones. You're taking another sip and I sigh softly. One day I will suck the flesh of your neck between my lips and hold my tongue against that spot as your Adams apple passes. I will kiss the hollow at the base of your throat and bask in the scent of your skin. If this was a case you were working it would have dawned on you by now that I have been making these plans for a while. What has happened to me Booth? When did I become this woman that wallows in lust over every detail of your anatomy? When did I stop naming the muscles beneath your skin and think solely about how it would feel to touch them?

Speaking of your anatomy, I know that you have a small scar on the back of your right ear that I'm not even sure you know is there. I want to tell you about it, feel the slight rise of it under my fingertips and see if you actually know when it happened. Even though I have never grazed my lips across your ear I already know that it's an erroneous zone for you. I know that's not a very scientific statement but every time I have leaned in to whisper a secret to you I feel you tense and watch your face blanch. I'm fully aware of where all that blood is traveling Seeley Booth. I may be some what socially inept but I'm by no means sexually naive.

Can you feel me watching you? Does your gut tingle when my eyes are moving over you as though my hands are underneath your clothes? I think you know, I think you can feel it with your famous intuition. I know you could feel it in Vegas; you didn't even try to hide it. The heat of that city seemed to melt our defenses. You picked out those red and black dresses for yourself not for me. I heard you utter that I was hot as you zipped up that black dress. You took a lot of liberties on that trip but in truth, so did I. You ran your finger up my spine when you zipped me up. Did you think I didn't notice that? I may present an air of indifference but I don't miss anything, not when it comes to you. You touched me every chance you could under the convenient guise of being Tony. I felt the heat of you on me for weeks afterwards. Tony the Tiger. If I wrap myself around you naked and start to purr will I see the tiger in you Booth?

When we walked into the gym that first time as Roxie and Tony, you smacked my ass and I think I came a little. I made some comment to you so you would stop, but not because I wanted you to. I just couldn't be held responsible for my actions if you had done it again. One more swat and there was a good chance I would have tightened my arm around your waist and asked the nice gentlemen to excuse us for a moment so we could talk. I would have looked the part too Seeley, all anxious and insecure, needing a moment of reassurance from my big strong man in private. I would have walked you into a rest room or closet or anything I could find and taken matters into my own hands. I am being literal here so let that image sink in because I promise you, before you knew what had happened I would have pinned you against a wall and had my way.

I decided then that if you were playing then I could play, I didn't know if you were still seeing Cam but I wasn't seeing anyone, so my conscience was clear. Later that night when we walked into the fight I returned the favor and slapped my hand against your cheek. That isn't what startled you though was it? It was when I put my hand back there and felt your muscles clench as you walked. I couldn't resist the little squeeze that got your attention. You glanced over at me, clearly shocked but smiling and trying not to stumble too much on your words. You did a good job of passing off your fumbling conversation as being distracted by me. You gave that guy a look, one of those unspoken male conversations accented by a nod of your head in my direction. You were telling him, with just an expression, to look at me so he would understand that with a woman like this wrapped around your side you were bound to be distracted. He did look at me Seeley, his eyes traveled greedily down my body and I felt your arm tighten possessively around me, pulling me against the length of your side. Normally I would have been angry, normally I would have kicked your ass for serving me up as an object that you owned and were allowing someone else to view. They weren't normal circumstance though, were they?

In the end I didn't blow our cover out of righteous indignation because while he was checking me out all I could think about was how your ass felt in my hand. In that moment when you took a step and your muscle rose against my palm, warm and as solid as stone, I knew how it would feel to have you thrust into me. I knew that as I held onto it, your ass would push into my hand as you arched to set yourself deeper inside me and it would feel exactly like that. I was immediately soaking wet. If that room had not reeked of sweat and blood you would have caught the scent of sexual hunger rising from between my thighs. You thought I was blushing because of how that man looked at me and I let you think it even as my nipples hardened against your side. After the first time we have sex, and I'm sure now that we're going to, your ass will have a spattering of bruises from my fingertips and perhaps I'll tell you why.

I wanted you on that trip, more than I have ever wanted anyone and I was planning on having you that last night after the fight. I think it was an easier decision because I was acting as Roxie; I could keep my fear at bay by not seeing us as Temperance and Seeley. I was more than ready after watching you beat that amazon of a man they set up against you. I was in the red dress then and you almost got knocked out looking at my cleavage when I was trying to tell you what his weaknesses were. I finally pulled my dress up and covered myself for just a second to get your attention back to my face. I was commando under the dress and I knew you were aware of it. If you had asked me, I was going to tell you that it seemed like the kind of thing a woman like Roxie would do so it helped me stay in character. When your hand slid down to my hip just after we arrived that night I knew you were aware there was nothing between me and that dress. Your eyes turned a color that I had never seen before and a tingling sensation moved slowly down my spine. If we hadn't been sent to be killed and had to end our cover to make arrests the night would have gone completely differently for you. We finished up with the police way too late, our flight was only hours away. Do you know how close you came? I would have stayed another night if you had asked. When I woke up in my own bed the next day the regret, relief and desire were all so strong I could hardly pull air into my lungs.

Even now, months later, I still feed my fantasies with images from that trip. Do you know that Seeley? After I'm in bed at night with the heat of my wanting caught between my cotton sheets it's you that I'm picturing. As my hand slides between my legs and I push two fingers between my folds it's your hand that I picture. When my body arches off the bed and I am shaking with the need for release it's you I imagine pressed into me, thrusting deeply inside me. Later, when only a tremor is left from my orgasm, the satisfaction I feel is always layered with a throbbing ache down my center. It's an ache for you that my own hands can not fill.

I watch you finish the report you have been diligently working on and I want to touch you. When you're finished we're supposed to be getting dinner. It seems like any other day but I know that it's not, at least not for us. I found out you've stopped seeing Cam and I'm tired of not seeing you. After careful consideration I think we can handle this and that in reality we have a better chance than most people in making it succeed. I'm going to invite you back to my place for dinner instead of going to a restaurant. I'm a woman that believes brilliance is found in the details so I already have everything ready. I'm about to change us, to infuse who we are with this desire. My palms are damp inside these gloves as the thoughts of tonight swirl inside me. My body is humming with anticipation to feeling your hands on me, against my skin. My stomach trembles in fear and flutters with lust and I admit that of all the situations I've faced, few have left me this nervous.

I can't afford to be wrong about you Seeley, or about myself. As you know, the stakes are just too high. This time I'm counting on a lot more than beginners luck. I know I've had relationships before, but none of them started with a person that I care about so much. None of them made me feel so vulnerable, so exposed. None of them made me feel so alive.

I know this seems out of character for me, to make a decision that seems illogical and based on emotion but that's not necessarily true. I haven't abandoned science, it just happened to work in our favor this time. Nash's theory of chaos, the proof of which is actually based on mathematics, states that the most logical choice is not always the right one. Imagine that, I read the article on it twice. I think this is one of those times, when the obvious logic doesn't apply, when the choices have to be weighed by hand.

I'm watching you walk toward me and even your stride feels inviting. I can tell that you're trying to read me; you're wearing that curious expression that usually precedes a question. It's obvious that you're ready to go.

"I'm done with that paperwork. Are you coming Bones?"

Not yet Seeley, but when I am, I can promise you, you'll be right there with me.


End file.
